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“Fuck, I think I already lost.”
But as she’s moving down, my phone starts ringing. The sound is way too loud, and Allegra pauses, frowning at the screen.
“Ignore it,” I command. “Dick. Mouth. Please.”
“Easy there.” Her smile slips. “It’s Renzo. He never calls this late.”
She’s right about that. I glance at the clock—it’s a little past eight. “He’s fine. Back to what you were doing.”
“Take the call, you horny moron. I’ll give you what you want when you’re done.”
I groan but take the offered phone. “What?” I grunt at my brother. I don’t think I’ve ever hated him more than right now.
“Gian. Are you home?”
“No, not yet.”
“Where’s Allegra?”
I hesitate. There’s a panicked tone to his voice. “She’s with me.”
“You two are safe?”
“What the fuck is going on?”
He lets out a breath. “I just got word. The Irish hit one of Don Rinaldo’s clubs forty minutes ago. Three people dead.”
“Shit.” I stare at Allegra. She’s frowning and already pulling a blanket around her body. “That’s not good.”
“It’s worse. He said there’s no chance of our alliance, and he plans on making peace with the Irish and the Russian.”
I let that sink in. My body goes numb. “That stupid motherfucker.”
“I need you to come in. We have to fix this before it gets out of hand.”
“I’m on my way.”
“And bring your wife.” He pauses and his voice is dark. “She’ll be safe here.”
“Understood.” I hang up. Allegra’s back is straight.
“What happened?”
“We got to go, baby. We’ll save the fun stuff for another time.”
“It’s that bad?”
I nod and kiss her. Bliss never lasts for long. That’s why I’ve learned to savor it when I can. “We’ll be okay. But we’ve got to go.”
Chapter 32
Allegra
The Rossi house buzzes with activity. I sit with Maddie and we try to have a normal conversation about anything but the mafia even though that feels impossible. All four brothers are locked in Renzo’s office with a few of the top Capos discussing strategy. They don’t come back out until late at night. Gian looks haggard. “We’ll stay here tonight,” he says, leading me to a guest room.
I don’t get much sleep. The vibe in the house is bad. I knew my father was unhappy about what happened with my marriage, but I kept assuming he’d get over it eventually, or at least his business sense would prevail.
This attack must’ve rattled him.
